Chapter Ten Public Displays of Indiscretion
Public Displays of Indiscretion
The morning sun at the Chesapeake Hotel announced itself with a golden burst above Peach Valley’s modest skyline.
It spilled through the heavy velvet curtains of the Presidential Suite, illuminating the dust motes dancing over the furniture and the tangled mess of high-thread-count sheets.
Melody stirred first, her blonde hair spilled across the silk pillowcase.
Beside her, Red was still asleep, his withered chest rising and falling and an occasional snorting snore escaping his parted lips.
Even asleep, his weathered, age-spotted, overly tanned body looked out of place in such an opulent bed.
Melody watched him for a moment, a small smile playing on her lips.
For thirty days, he had been her secret, a dirty, taboo escape from her relatively innocent suburban life.
Now, he was her guest in a room that cost more per night than he probably saw in a month on the streets.
She reached over, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw through the first silver stubble.
Red’s eyes flickered open, sharp and alert. It was the instinct of a man used to waking up in much less secure environments. When he saw her, the tension vanished, replaced by a smile and that low, appreciative growl she had grown to crave.
"Mornin', sugar," he rasped, his voice thick with sleep.
"Good morning, Grandpappy," she teased, leaning in to kiss his weathered cheek.
The old man wasn’t about to let the embrace end with a kiss on his cheek. He pulled her close, the duvet falling away from her and her soft breasts crushed against his lean body. His hands reached around her to squeeze her shapely ass and he planted a hot, hungry, morning-bitter kiss on her lips.
“Mmmm!” She pushed away, giggling. “Morning breath!”
“You love it,” he replied, and kissed her again, deepening the thrust of his musty tongue as his hands massaged her ass.
Then they were making love. It happened so naturally that neither of them even needed to comment on it. Red atop her, holding her hips, his morning cock stiff as steel inside her as he pushed her legs back and his heavy, droopy old balls slapped against her ass.
She arched when she came, gasping his favorite nickname against his lips. “Grandpappy!”
He hilted inside her, smothering the word with another hungry kiss and cumming with her. The eruption of his hot cum pumped through the clutching walls of her trailing climax. The slimy fullness of his cream prolonged her ecstasy. Their thrusts slowed. Their gasps were hot and lazy.
His face dipped to kiss her soft breasts and tongue her stiff nipples. Then he rolled beside her and she felt the familiar, naughty trickle of his cum down the crack of her ass.
Melody found herself enjoying the domesticity of it.
For this weekend, the bubble was real. She nuzzled against him, breathing the faint musk of BO and the more prevalent scent of sex, both fresh and from the night before.
His heavy breathing relaxed. His arm pulled her tighter against him and he kissed the top of her golden head.
"We can't stay in this bed all day, Red," Melody said eventually, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head.
The movement made her breasts bounce, and she saw his eyes follow the motion with a predatory focus.
Red reached out with a curling finger to toy with her pink nipple.
She laughed and pushed his hand away. "Come on, we just did it.
I want to take you out. I need to do some shopping for my brand. "
Red sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. "Sugar, I don’t think you want to be buyin’ things from the sort of place that lets me hang around."
"Nonsense," Melody chirped, hopping out of bed. "You have your suit. You look like a retired gentleman visiting his favorite granddaughter. Remember? It’s your perfect cover. Plus, I want you to help me pick out some new content outfits."
The idea of taking him to the Peach Valley Fashion Mall, the high-end temple of consumerism in their town, sent a thrill through her body.
The risk of being seen by someone she knew only added to the idea of parading her elderly lover through the popular mall.
She wanted to show him off and she wasn’t going to let her Grandpappy be ashamed of being so much older than her.
“Alright, sugar,” he said, stroking her head and kissing it again. “But I need a shower first.”
“Yeah, me too,” she giggled, bouncing out of bed. “We can shower together!”
“It’s gonna be lunch time before we get there,” laughed Red, limping towards the bathroom with Melody giggling and following behind him.
Eventually, they made it out of the hotel.
The Peach Valley Mall was a gleaming cathedral of green glass, white marble, and overpriced espresso. The sort of mall where they piped classical music through the sound system.
Melody had dressed in an "influencer-chic" ensemble. A short, tight sundress that showed off her toned legs, a neckline scooped low enough to reveal her creamy cleavage, and a pair of designer sunglasses pushed up into her hair. She was popping gum and serving cunt.
Red was back in the charcoal gray Goodwill suit. She had helped him straighten the tie and comb his white hair back, and despite the boxy fit of the jacket, he carried himself with a rugged, quiet dignity that made the "Grandpappy" ruse incredibly easy to sell.
As they walked through the main atrium, Melody looped her arm through his. She leaned into him, playing the part of the devoted granddaughter to perfection.
"Oh, look, Grandpappy!" she said loudly as they passed a fountain, catching the eyes of a middle-aged couple. "Isn't this place just lovely? It’s so much nicer than the malls back home."
Red patted her hand, his eyes crinkling in a way that looked grandfatherly but felt proprietary. "It sure is, honey. Just glad to be spendin' the afternoon with you."
The moment the couple passed, Melody leaned in, her lips brushing his ear.
"I’m not wearing any panties under this dress, Red," she whispered, her voice a low, melodic thrum. "The skirt is rubbing against my clit every time I take a step. I'm already wet for you. We’re gonna have to finish what we started in the shower."
Red’s hand tightened on her arm. He didn't look at her, as if he might bend her over and fuck her right there in the atrium. He kept his eyes straight ahead, a small, dark chuckle vibrating in his chest.
"You’re a wicked girl, Melody. If we weren't in the middle of a crowd, I'd bend you over my lap and spank that bottom of yours."
“Promise?” she giggled, leaning up to nip at his earlobe.
They navigated the high-end wing of the mall, past the designer jewelers and the luxury watch boutiques. Red looked like a fish out of water, but Melody had enough charisma for the both of them and her grandpappy seemed to be enjoying the spectacle.
She watched the way people looked at her with envy or with lust and then looked at Red with polite, dismissive kindness.
They saw a sweet old man and a beautiful girl.
Melody giggled. They had no idea her Grandpappy had been balls deep in her pressing her face against the shower wall not an hour earlier.
They reached their destination. L’Amour Privé was the sort of boutique that didn't have prices on the racks or the mannequins. The interior was all muted gold, heavy pink velvet, and the hushed, reverent silence of a temple of lust.
"May I help you find something specific?" a young clerk asked, her name tag reading Brianna. She looked Melody up and down, recognizing the "influencer" look, and then gave Red a polite smile. Brianna was the sort of woman used to dealing with sugar daddies and their hot young sugar babies.
"Yes," Melody said, beaming. "My grandfather is treating me to a few sets for my... modeling portfolio. Grandpappy has such a classic eye for style, don't you, dear?"
Red cleared his throat, nodding. "I know what looks good on a pretty girl."
Melody led him through the racks, her fingers dancing over silk, lace, and mesh.
She was deliberate in her choices. She picked out a sheer black lace set that was practically non-existent.
Then, a vibrant red silk piece with intricate strappy detailing.
Finally, she found the prize. It was a daring, open-crotch set in a deep emerald green, the lace so fine it looked like spiderwebs.
"Let’s try these on," Melody said, grabbing Red’s hand.
Brianna led them toward the back, to a row of large, luxurious fitting rooms. These weren't the cramped stalls of a department store. They were more like private rooms with velvet ottomans and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. There was even a mini fridge with bottled water. The good bottled water.
"The lighting in here is the best in the mall," Brianna said, gesturing to the corner room.
"Grandpappy, come in and help me," Melody said, not giving the clerk a chance to object. "My eyesight is fine, but I can never get those tiny clasps, and Grandpappy is so patient."
Brianna hesitated for a fraction of a second, but a "grandfather" helping his "granddaughter" was just wholesome enough to pass under the boutique's radar of propriety. She closed the outer door, leaving them in the private, mirrored sanctuary.
The lock clicked into place, and the atmosphere in the small room shifted instantly. The muffled sounds of the mall faded, replaced by the sound of their combined breathing.
"Sit down, Red," Melody whispered, pointing to the velvet ottoman.
She didn't waste time. She slipped out of her sundress, letting it pool on the floor.
She stood before him in just her heels, her body glowing under the warm, flattering lights.
Red sat on the ottoman, his hands on his knees, his gaze burning as it raked over her plump teenage breasts and neatly trimmed cunt.